Until My Dying Breath
by empty-junkyard-gargoyle
Summary: Merlin will wait for the return of the Once and Future King. He'll wait even until the world is gone and the stars are faded, and the end of days is upon him. He will wait until his last breath for his King to return.


**Until My Dying Breath**

I've been waiting, all these years, all these hundreds of thousands of millions of billions of years, I've been waiting for him. The other side of the coin, the other half of my soul.

Kingdoms have risen, and they've fallen again, and more rise, stronger than the last, but they too have fallen. Rise and fall, rise and fall. The people come back stronger every time.

Cars are invented, and technology, people change. Gone is the world I was born in to. Gone are the kingdoms and the castles, and the sorcerers, and the magic. I'm all that's left of that world.

Me, and the lake.

Me, and Avalon.

We two only exist now as the world changes again, into something new.

It's a world of metal and flying cars and electricity, technology is everywhere. The people, only children to my old eyes, have harnessed a magic all their own and they've used it to create this world for themselves. They've sent themselves amongst the stars, up out of their world and into the next, and they've prospered.

But I don't join them. Not yet. Not while Avalon still stands.

I can't.

We're all that remains of the Old World.

Me, and Avalon.

The people have been moving, moving their world out to the stars, spreading their new magics across the universe, creating new life somewhere that isn't here. Because now their world is dying. They've taken as much as they can from the earth, and they've staved off the death for as long as possible, but it's time for them to go now. So, they build their ships and they leave.

It's time to go too.

But I don't. Not yet.

I have preparations to make.

I build a ship. A ship of my very own as the world continues to die. I don't know anything about the technology of the world they've left behind, not at first, but I learn well enough. I soak in the magics of their world, take the knowledge they've left behind into me, into my soul. And I use it to build a ship around the lake, around Avalon.

And the world continues to die.

But not with me, not with the lake.

The Old Magic is enough to sustain us as we're sealed off with the knowledge of their world.

The world crumbles and falls and only when then does the ship fly. It breaks away from the world, spanning miles, holding inside the lake and what little remains of the earth. And we sail into the stars as our world falls, as the world crumbles to dust and the sun swallows the skies.

It's still us.

Me and Avalon.

Amongst the stars now.

We move from new world to new world, watching them rise and fall. Rise and fall. It's an endless cycle. We watch stars die, one by one, and we watch more be brought into the universe, breathing life into the empty space around them. Rise and fall, rise and fall. Neverending.

But like them, the universe isn't forever. It too, starts to fade. More stars die than are born, more stars fade into nothingness without another taking it's place. And the worlds that surround them die too, crumble into dust. The people are slowly leaving the universe for good.

And yet, I remain.

Me, and Avalon.

We exist together in the spanse of death. We watch as the universe darkens, as the last of the stars fade. Only one remains now, the last of its kind, the last light in the empty black around us. It too, is dying, fading. It won't be long now. Already, the star is dimming, dying.

And when it's gone, I'll still be waiting.

Waiting with Avalon.

Waiting for him.

The other side of the coin, the other half of my soul.

I will wait for him until my dying breath. But it won't come. It will never come. I will remain, undying, unfading, I will remain in the darkness with my lake, surrounded by the knowledge of that remains of the people. Even when the last star is gone and I'm left in the dark, I will remain.

Me, alone.

Me, and Avalon.

The last of our kind, the last of the Old Magic, the last of the Old World. We'll remain and exist in the pitch black emptiness. Waiting for him. For the Once and Future King.

Undying.

Unfading.

We will remain.

We will exist.

And we will wait.

The last star fades, dies down into nothingness, the black engulfs it. And then we're alone. There's nothing more but the blackness. Nothing but death, or there world be had anything been living. Death does not exist here, in this ship, in me or Avalon. But neither does Life exist. Life cannot be without Death.

And so, we remain.

Me, and Avalon.

Existing, only existing in the black.

Time is a standstill, but still we wait.

We wait for our King, until our dying breath that will never come.

We will wait.

"Merlin?"

Our King. He has returned.

"Merlin, is that you?"

"Arthur."

* * *

* I do not, nor will I ever, own BBC's Merlin and it's tear-enducing story.

So…that was something, huh? Yup, definitely something.

I woke up this morning after a crazy dream that was a mish-mash of Supernatural and Invader Zim and death and New Worlds and ships, and it got me to thinking. Merlin would probably still wait until the end for his King to return, even when the world he knows is gone, he would wait.

So…yeah…this little story now exists because of an insane dream that woke me up at 6.30 am.


End file.
